On A Winter's Night
by ToryTigress92
Summary: It has been a year since Jane fled Thornfield, but now her past will catch up with her. How will she fare when the man who haunts her Past, and will determine her Future, discovers a long-guarded secret?
1. Meetings In The Misty Forest

On A Winter's Night

**Only my second Jane Eyre story, but this will be a multi-chapter kind of based off my first 'God Forgive Me', however while that was book-based, this one is based off the 1973 version with Sorcha Cusack and Michael Jayston, although you're at liberty to imagine whichever Jane Eyre and Rochester you like. It would kind of fit all of them, almost.**

**Anyway please enjoy :)**

* * *

_**I used to rush into strange dreams at night: dreams many coloured, agitated, full of the ideal, the stirring, the stormy- dreams where, amidst unusual scenes, charged with adventure, with agitating risk and romantic chance, I again and again met Mr Rochester, always at some exciting crisis; and then the sense of being in his arms, hearing his voice, meeting his eye, touching his hand and cheek, loving him, being loved by him- the hope of passing a lifetime at his side, would be renewed with all its first force and fire.**_

_**Then I awoke.**_

_**Then I recalled where I was, and how situated. Then I rose up on my curtainless bed, trembling and quivering; and then the still, dark night witnessed the convulsion of despair, and the burst of passion.**_

**Jane Eyre, chapter 32**

* * *

Really I should not have taken a walk that evening. It was cold and frosty, and while the sky was clear, I shivered beneath my cloak, the snow of the moors soaking through my sturdy boots.

My home was yet a few miles distant, and I was just come from Miss Oliver's home, where she had invited me to tea. Her gentle patronage was a balm to my soul after my solitude of the past nine months, as I once again took up my post of schoolmistress of Morton. Nine months of solitude and pain and intense loneliness borne alone, for now not even my saviour and cousin St John would come near me. I was diseased, cursed, impure in his Christian eyes, and I supposed I ought to be thankful he had helped me so far, as to keep my painful secret.

My mind flinched away from that fact, away from all the memories it would bring forth, as I sternly reprimanded myself.

It had been nearly a year since I had left my dear master, nearly a year since our failed marriage. Nearly a year since I discovered the truth of Thornfield, and had fled temptation.

What, I asked myself, is it not better to be free, a schoolmistress in the heart of England, and not fettered and sunk in a fool's paradise in a Mediterranean villa? To be captive to the mistakes and inclinations of my heart, drowning in Mr Rochester's love one moment and drowning in my own shame the next?

Oh I knew, for a time at least, he would have loved me but that love would have turned sour, sickened and died, as a rose must do when blight touches its downy petals, and the first frosts of winter take their sway.

No it was better I had left him, I told myself as I trudged along, so that our love might yet survive, furled like a bud in winter, not blooming but frozen, awaiting its chance to shine again.

So I concluded yet again, a conclusion I forced myself to every night when I awoke from dreams of such longing and remembered passion, I shook and trembled.

A fresh surge of the bitter wind had me looking up, as I saw storm clouds amass on the horizon, and the icy rain begin to fall. I hurried on, uncaring now of the mud which clung to my boots and skirts, as I contemplated leaving my dearest Matthew home alone, when the lightning began to strike, and the thunder to crash in the sky, and knew I must reach home.

But the now steady fall of rain over the landscape was making my progress slow and burdensome, as I fought to remain upright. Looking ahead I saw the stretch of woodland, out of place on the barren moors, which ran up to my home, where the road forked away, through the woods to another county.

But as I entered the darkness of the wood, and followed the road sheltered by the towering oak trees, the sound of my footsteps falling dead on the dying leaves; my thoughts turned once more to those charged moments, after the failed wedding…

_I sat at my bureau, as I wrestled with my own resolution, to leave Thornfield. Oh I wanted to be weak!_

"_Let another help me! Let me be torn away!" I breathed desperately, as I contemplated leaving that which I loved so passionately. I stood shakily, and let myself lean against the post of my bed, the afternoon sun bleeding in as it slowly began to sink beneath its meridian._

_But Conscience turned tyrant and held Passion by the throat. _

_I perceived I was sickening from inanition; neither meat nor drink had passed my lips that day._

_I called on my waning strength and went to the door, opening it to reveal Mr Rochester, waiting patiently upon its threshold, such a look of concern and longing in his eyes I felt my head swim. I almost fell, but for his strong arms catching me as I did so._

_I let myself be held by him, burying my face in the crook of his neck, inhaling the scent of him. The smell of fresh pine, brandy and cigars…_

_His large hand splayed over my back, comforting me with its soothing caress as he stroked my spine, while I fought to control my dizziness in his embrace._

"_You come out at last," he said, ever so gently, and I felt my resolution quake. "I've been waiting and listening, yet not one movement have I heard nor one sob. Five minutes more of that deathly silence and I should have forced the door."_

_I raised my head, and looked up into his eyes, as he held me close, supporting me against his strong frame. He scrutinised my face intently, checking I knew for signs of tears or distress._

_There was none, I was too sick for such dramatics._

"_A white cheek, a faded eye with no trace of tears. I suppose then that your heart has been weeping blood?" he observed quizzically, as I returned my head to his shoulder, never desiring to leave his warmth. He held me close with a shuddering sigh, before supporting my weakened frame with his strong arm, leading me towards the stairs. "Come."_

I forced myself out of my memories as I made myself march on, staring at my muddied boots as I did, tears blurring my vision, my mind deaf to all around it.

For so long had I buried the past, refused to think of more than my present circumstances, but now it had once again begun to rise from the ashes of my long-dead soul, resurrecting with a vengeance.

I was so enthralled with my own feelings and thoughts as my heart beat fast in my breast that I did not hear the footsteps nor hear another's breathing until I turned a corner in the forest path, and rushed straight into the stony frame of a stranger.

With a cry, I would have fallen back, had it not been for two strong arms linking around my waist, holding me upright. I froze, my body recognising even through the layers of my cloak, pelisse and dress the frame I had been trapped against, the broad-shouldered, athletic structure and contours, the finely tailored coat and cravat my nose was buried in, as I slowly looked up and into Mr Rochester's eyes.

* * *

_I watched Jane through guarded eyes, as I stood by the hearth, looking down on her as she struggled with her conscience. Mine was at peace, sure in what it knew to be right, my soul full with my love for the tiny, innocent girl before me. I held her hand in mine, begging with the stony determination I could see forming in those radiant eyes, begging her not to forsake me when I needed her most. I could not, would not live without my Jane for a moment longer._

_I had just finished my tale, explained to my love fully the origins of my association with that…woman, and now I knew I would have to fight hard if I wished to retain my Jane. But for all that, I knew my love was tender-hearted and she would not leave me if I could just break away the chains of convention I knew would prompt her to forsake me, and attempt to return to the former order of things._

_Pressing her soft, fragile little artist's hand in mine, I could feel the storm of my emotions rise in my voice, as I looked into Jane's eyes._

"_I demand that aid again, Jane," I said, and I knew my voice was low and pleading._

"_I would give it gladly Sir," she breathed, and though my heart winced to hear her call me by that honorific, I felt some measure of hope rise. "You can, you can!"_

"_How?" she almost cried out, pitying love shining in her deep eyes as I knelt and took her arms in my hands, holding her lest she try to escape._

"_Jane we are packed and ready. Nothing holds us save dull convention. You shall be Mrs Rochester both virtually and nominally. I shall keep you as long as you and I live," I vowed earnestly, as if vowing before the Almighty himself. But to my surprise horror filled her eyes, and she recoiled._

"_No!"_

_Pain filled me, sharp and excruciating, as I snapped at her in anger. "You don't love me then! It was my rank and the station of wife that you valued! Now you find me disqualified to be your husband you recoil from me!" _

_I could see Jane's agitation as she fought inwardly with herself._

"_I do love you, more than ever," she started and I felt relief wash over me as poison is lanced from a wound. But her next words soon eclipsed that feeling with more pain and more anger, as I felt the bulwarks of my control stretch to breaking point. "But I must not show or indulge the feeling, and this is the last time I must express it. I must leave you, Mr Rochester!"_

_With agony running through my veins, I bowed my head, still fighting to retain my love by my side. "Jane you must be reasonable or in truth I shall go mad!"_

"_If I were to live with you as you desire, I should then be your mistress, a thing owned by you!" Jane tried to reason, but I could not bear it. As if she would ever be my mistress, for she was too untameable to be owned or kept. "And I shall not be, both for my sake and for yours'!"_

_Anger made inaction impossible, as I stood and looked down upon her once more. "Jane I am not a gentle-tempered man. Do you truly mean to go one way in the world and leave me to go another?" I demanded, my words descending into a snarl at the sight of her face, crumpled with agony as mine was but steeled with determination._

"_I do." she murmured, standing from the chair I had placed her in, and attempting to leave my presence. I felt my control snap as I reached for her, desperate to make her stay._

_Desperate to make her love me, and acknowledge that she could no more live without me than I could without her._

* * *

As I collided with another young woman in that stormy forest, full of shadows and haunting ghosts, I mentally recollected why I was even in Morton.

It had been six months since Bertha had flung herself to her death from the battlements of Thornfield, six months I had been desperately searching for my Jane. Do not mistake me, reader, for I had been searching for her the moment I awoke to discover her gone from my arms, the day after my failed wedding. But the event of Bertha's death had ensured my search had intensified, and so it had led me here, where people, cousins of the same name, resided. Even if Jane did not know of their existence, I felt sure I would find answers here.

But never in a million centuries did I expect to collide with my darling here, on a deserted forest path in the middle of a storm.

Oh I knew her instantly, as she collided with me, even before she turned her face to mine. How could I forget her slender frame and the gleam of her alabaster skin in the moonlight?

Such thoughts of her had tortured me for endless nights, and perhaps some part of my soul rose up and called to its kindred, and received an answer for I knew her the moment I held her in my arms.

My Jane…

* * *

_I gazed up at my dear master, saw there the hurt and the anger, the despotism I had teased for the entirety of our courtship beginning to swell and rise. He must give in to it, to that impetus of frenzy for a moment, come what may._

_As I rose from my chair, determining to depart before my taxed will snapped, he caught me and held me fast, crushing my lips to his. He held me with urgent strength, bruising need and desperate love, and for a moment I could not but give in._

_Heaven help me!_

"_Do you still mean it ?" he demanded when he released me but only so far. Through bruised lips which throbbed, both from my own desire and from his, I replied,_

"_Yes."_

_His breath shuddered between us, heavy against my chest, before he captured my lips again, this kiss becoming wilder and more passionate as I fought to remain aloof._

_But I could not, even a nun would have struggled to remain unmoved by such an embrace. Only the thought of his poor, mad wife upstairs held me to my purpose._

"_Still?" he demanded again, as tears tracked down both our cheeks, our breathing raggedly in unison as our souls cried out in agony at the parting. _

"_I do," I cried, succeeding in turning away from him, just for a moment._

"_Jane this is bitter, wicked. It would not be wicked to love me," he told me, and I agreed inwardly._

"_It would to obey you," I retorted, knowing I must not give in. The look of utter suffering which crossed his face tested my overtaxed strength anew._

"_But what shall I do, Jane? Where shall I turn for a companion, for hope!" he demanded wildly, and I felt my heart pound against its bonds._

"_Do as I do! Trust in God!" I cried, my inner war bleeding out into my words as I sensed the moment of parting draw near. "Believe in heaven, hope to meet again there. Farewell!"_

_I tried to leave his arms with that whispered last, but he would not free me, pulling me closer with a sigh of my name which sent tremors of ominous warning down my spine._

_This was the voice of a lion rising, scenting that which threatens it, and he would devour me without a thought._

"_Jane," he recommenced dangerously, and I shivered at his voice in my ear. "You condemn me to live wretched and to die accursed!"_

"_No! No, God bless you, direct you, solace you and reward you well for your past kindness to me," I breathed, wishing more than ever that I could comfort him. But there was no way I could now. I was not his wife and never could be, and he belonged to another. I turned away before my voice lost its strength and my tears fell, my heart breaking at the seams as I left him._

"_Jane!" he called, heartbrokenly and I shuddered but ran still, making for my room. "Jane!"_

_As I ran through the foyer and up onto the staircase, I faltered at his anguished cry. _

"_Jane!"_

_I stopped halfway up the flight, my hand clutching the space where my heart beat in agony, my soul rising to fly to his for comfort as I bowed my head, almost falling to my knees at it not been for my hold upon the banister._

_Could I truly leave my master, my darling, my love, my life? _

_My heart beat fast in my breast as I fell to my knees on the carpeted runner, blind as my mind opened up to me his suffering and the vista of agony and loneliness we would both experience. Who would truly care if I stayed with him now? No one, my uncle soon to depart this world and no one to stop me._

_Only my respect for him and myself, and the love I bore him held me firm, but it was fast eroding under the frenzy of passion in my blood, in my soul._

_He must have witnessed my moment of weakness, for I heard his voice call to me, like a siren._

"_Jane…" _

_I heard his gentle whisper, as I felt his footsteps on the steps behind me, and I knew in that moment I had only two choices, with my blood running afire and my mind too addled and insane to think clearly: I must run and without stopping, or stay and give into him._

_Against each and every precept I had learnt, against all I had cherished in my mind. At the expense of our immortal souls._

_Without hesitating I rose, and strengthened, I ran to my room, but with my master at my back, reaching for me._

* * *

I looked up into Mr Rochester's dark, dark eyes and saw the rush of realisation in them as I felt my soul answer the call of his. It may have been many months since last he held me but my God, my body already sank against his as if I had never left his embrace.

"Jane," he breathed my name, his exhalation crystallising in front of my nose, his voice a soft caress on my lips as I felt my heart quake. "I have found you at last."

His name slipped from my lips before I could stop it. "Edward…"

That same frenzy of passion which had once forced my flight from him had me pushing away from him, turning and running into the forest without thought or logic.

His continued calling of my name tugged at my resolve to run from him, but I knew I had to escape from him, even as my heart called me back to his arms.

I had to protect my secret, he was still married, and if he discovered my secret, he would never let me go.

And I would not wish him to.

I rushed through the forest, fear making me agile, as the sound of his pursuit faded into the undergrowth, as I whipped around a large oak, and leant against its trunk, breathing heavily.

Until I heard his boots in the clearing behind me, and I froze once more, as the deer when it scents the wolf.

I knew if he caught me again I would lose my mind and lose myself in him, in his eyes, his voice, his kiss, his love.

Then as I shifted my feet, a twig snapped beneath my boots, and its crack reverberated through the air, even above the howl of the wind and the crack of thunder.

I could hear my heart pounding against my ribcage, my blood throbbing in my veins as I fought to lessen my breathing.

But to no avail.

A moment later, I was in his arms once more.

* * *

_I followed Jane into her room, her strength no match for mine as I shouldered my way through the door. I had witnessed the inner war tearing her apart, and I would do all that was necessary to help her come to the right, and come back to me. I would not let her leave._

"_Jane…" I breathed, standing before the door, as she backed away, her face alive with fire and passion, yet weary as she turned her back to me and went to the window._

"_I beg you, do not tempt me further," she gasped, as I moved forward. Desperation made me bold, so I walked straight behind her, and slid my arms around her waist. "Edward please, do not tempt me further, I beg of you."_

_My Christian name on her lips only enflamed my love and desire, as I brushed my lips over the nape of her neck, the intricate curls of her hair nestling against my cheek._

_She tensed then relaxed into my embrace, despite herself, and I knew I was close to winning her to my side forever._

"_My love…" I sighed, my hands tightening unconsciously around her waist as my body stirred, at the feel of her so very right, fitting to my form as if she were made for me. To the very finest fibre of my being._

_I knew all the emotions which would even now be coursing through her, my Jane. She was a passionate creature, and the fire she could ignite in me was only matched by her own. I knew the intense longing flowing through her veins, heady and intoxicating as it was the first time._

_The only difference was that I was sure that with her, that intoxication would never fade. I would never have my fill of Jane._

_I knew the feeling of hearing your heart beat in your ears, the tension holding her delicate limbs which could only be sated, not ignored, otherwise it grew worse with each passing moment._

_As I had done once before, I tilted Jane's head up and back, before I captured her lips with my own, trying to be gentle, coaxing her out of her cage, setting the wings of her inner soul free. She did not struggle or fight to be free of me, but I felt the moan welling up in her throat, and I drank it in. She turned to face me, twining her arms around my neck, and running her delicate fingers through my hair. With trembling fingers of my own, I slid them into her hair, loosening the bonds holding the silken mass entrapped until it fell around her shoulders. _

_I froze when I felt her hand slid down my chest, to the buttons of my waistcoat. I released her lips and looked down at her slender fingers quickly undoing the set of four buttons holding the garment closed. With a shuddering breath, I looked up and into her eyes, saw there the tears and the tentative acceptance of what must be, and the fiery desire yearning to be set free._

_That wild, shy look made me love her more as I kissed her again, my own hand rising to her collar, sliding beneath the fabric to undo the catches of her black stuff gown, while Jane's hands finished with my waistcoat and rose to my cravat, flicking aside the folds with a desperate frantic energy. _

* * *

Jane struggled and fought my hold as I held her to me, not like the bird I had once envisaged her as, but as a Indian tigress straining at its chains for liberty.

"Be still, Jane! Do not struggle so, I do not wish to harm you," I tried to assure her but she was deaf to me. At last I could not hold on any longer and I was forced to relinquish her, and she backed away from me.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded, watching me warily from beneath her bonnet, her slender figure obscured by her voluminous cloak. Her little hands were enclosed in soft kid gloves, and overall I observed her raiment was richer than it had been heretofore.

"Jane, I've been searching for you tirelessly for nigh on a year," I told her earnestly, moving closer in my distress at the wariness I saw in her eyes. But she moved back, her little hand raised as if to ward me off, like a demon spirit which seeks entrance into an innocent soul.

"Do not come near me. I cannot let you touch me," she breathed, and despite myself her words gave me hope. "You are a married man, I must not-must not…"

"Jane, Bertha is dead," I told her. She gazed at me, nonplussed but did not move back when I strode forward to take her by the arms. "My…wife is dead."

"What? How?" she breathed, and I inwardly smiled to see once again that same innocent, pitying and yet inquisitive look I loved so well.

"Six months ago, Bertha escaped from Grace Poole. You know what a predilection that woman had for drink," I began, at which Jane nodded. "I was from home, and when the servants discovered her gone they grew afraid. They did not know how to handle Bertha as I did, and they chased onto the battlements. I guess Bertha must have been frightened, for she jumped to her death on the pavement below."

"Good God," Jane breathed, heartfelt pity shining on her face, upturned to the moonlight. The rain had stopped even while the thunder still crashed in the heavens, and I noticed that Jane's face and form was somehow…rounder than I had remembered. Her skin possessed a blush of pink where she had run, but I sensed it was more than that. Her lips, oh those organs which had tormented me through many a sleepless night, called to me and I could resist no more.

I kissed her.

* * *

_At my master's desirous kiss I fell into the abyss, but it was not one of pain or torture or self-shame, it was one of pleasure and love. I could fight my own inclinations no more, and I accepted what must happen. My strength had long reached its zenith, and now it must fall to what would be._

_For one night, one glorious night, I would be his wife and then heaven send me what trials it may, I would take them gladly; for this last night with my beloved._

_He let down my hair, his hands caressing the silken mass, our lips fused as one. I undid his waistcoat and cravat as his hand tugged at the catches of my dress, freeing my neck and then my upper body when his lips broke from mine to glide down my neck, marking the soft skin with his brand while I gasped, arching my spine so I pressed myself closer to him._

_I caressed my Edward's face, gliding through the hair as soft as a raven's wing, sliding my hands down the sideburns on either side of his face, bringing his lips back to mine for a kiss. He walked me backwards, and I did so haltingly, barely able to think beyond the fire igniting beneath my skin. _

_I felt the bed behind my knees and allowed him to push me back onto it, lying down and waiting for his next act, as he knelt in front of me, touching his lips to the space where my heart beat wildly, albeit screened by the fabric of my stuff gown. Perhaps even that veiled contact excited him, as he kissed a path down my body, while I followed my instinct and arched beneath him with an almost primal need._

_We had gone beyond religion now, beyond matters of Right and Wrong. Here, in this charged, mystical world of pleasure and delirium, such considerations were banished, as the Almighty banished Adam and Eve from the Garden Of Eden. _

_In this world, this paradise, only us two existed and I would have it no other way._

_Suddenly, the friction of my gown on my skin became too much, as Edward's lips returned to mine, and I needed to feel his skin on my own._

* * *

Memories of the night I had lain with my master came rushing back as I felt his kiss on my lips after so long without. The revelation he had just communicated still left me reeling, unable to comprehend its full ramifications while this insidious longing infiltrated my veins, making my heart pound against their bonds. My body reacted on pure instinct, the voices of Reason and Propriety hushed, as I kissed him back with a fervour I had only dared in my dreams.

Only one thought managed to surface from the morass of desire which encompassed my soul: How would I tell my dear master of the secret I had carried for so long?

The secret of the child which awaited me at home. The secret of our son.

* * *

**Bombshell! How would Rochester react when he discovers Jane bore his child? **

**Well you'll just have to wait and see…;) **


	2. A Secret Unveiled

On A Winter's Night

**Ok bit of a lemon in this one, and the big reveal. :)**

* * *

_I shuddered as my master's hand drifted up my spine, both of us unclothed and the curtains of my bed drawn about us, so we were cocooned in a heated world of our own. We did not mention the parting to come, nor did we mention the events of the day._

_We were somewhat preoccupied._

_My hair was loose around my shoulders, tangled and entwined with his fingers as he kissed me deeply, holding me close. I experienced no shyness in my nakedness before him, it felt so right._

_I broke the kiss, feeling his hands cup my face, brushing away the strands of hair which stuck to my moistened skin. He looked up into my eyes, our breaths syncopated as one, and I felt something within me shiver and unfurl as desire rode us._

"_Oh Jane, you torture me witch," he breathed, our bodies connected in every way except one. I felt his hands trace down my spine and around to my hips, pulling me forward against the rigid evidence of his desire. I shuddered and clasped my arms around his neck, pulling myself closer._

"_Then take me, Edward. Take me as your wife," I whispered, brushing his lips with mine. He lowered me down onto the pillows, covering me almost instantly with the warm rock of his body._

"_I love you so much, Jane," he gasped, before kissing my reply from my lips. I arched when the moment came, as he pushed through the barrier of my virtue, the pain of penetration not what I had expected._

_Mr Rochester's lips left my own, to travel down their favourite trail, it seemed, down the side of my neck, caressing the soft skin. I felt worshipped like a pagan goddess, truly glorious._

_How could something this wonderful be so sinful?_

_I could not fathom it. It was not an act of religion or of God, but of Nature herself, as right and as natural as the Sun rising in the morn._

_So I felt no shame when I moaned beneath my beloved's heated attentions, felt no reticence as I slid my hands into his dishevelled hair lovingly, would not allow self-disgust to hold sway when I kissed him so yearningly._

_The flames beneath my skin built and built, it seemed, with every movement of Mr Rochester's powerful body, the hands claiming me for their own, the lips clinging to my own so gently and tenderly, in a direct contrast to this ruthless, yet addictive coupling._

_They built to a conflagration within me, in the core of my soul, and I felt myself fly free with a cry like to that of a bird, at last released from its chains. My beloved fell atop me, suddenly boneless, his warm arms clasping me close as our bodies cooled and began to fall towards slumber._

_I looked up at my love, trembling at the unforgettable pleasure he had shown me, and cursed what I must do._

_I must renounce my love and my idol, my duty to depart, to face whatever trials I must face, in punishment of my sin._

"_Mr Rochester-" I began, but he looked up and I glimpsed a single tear running down his cheek. He bent his head and kissed away what I had thought to say, wiping it from my mind completely. I shivered and fell into the kiss, already prey once more to the inclinations of my body and my heart._

* * *

So my thoughts ran back to that night, as I stood in my master's arms, our lips caressing and exploring the other's as if we had never been apart, yet hungrily as a starved man would devour a feast.

After I had left my master, my trials had been many as I wandered, homeless and destitute, to Morton. I had collapsed there, on the doorstep of a house on the moors, to awaken to the faces of Diana, Mary and St John.

It was only two months later, when I missed my monthly courses, and was unable to keep my food down that I had discovered I was pregnant. St John had instantly sheltered me, despite his disgust at my impurity, telling the neighbourhood I had to visit a cousin in the far South, who had fallen ill. For seven months I had languished alone, for while Diana and Mary had kept me company gladly, they left within a few weeks of my revelation to return to their posts as governesses. Hannah helped me through the birth and St John baptised the child, and I had returned to my post, on the pretext that my cousin had died in childbirth and only I remained to care for the newborn child.

The whole affair had been conducted in secrecy, and for that I was grateful.

It had only been recently that I had discovered my Uncle's death, and the bequeathing of twenty thousand pounds to me. Naturally I had shared it among my newly discovered cousins, bringing them home forever to Moor House, and soon I would join them there, giving up my post as schoolmistress of Morton.

Until tonight, when the father of my child had risen up out of the winter mists to claim me once more.

All this whirled through my head as I kissed him there, in that clearing.

How to tell him? How could I?

At the thought I disengaged from his lips and from his arms. He looked surprised and a little hurt, moving towards me frowningly.

"Jane what is it? Are you still disgusted by me? By my keeping secret my marriage to Bertha?" he asked, and I shook my head.

"No, sir-" I began, but he interrupted with a quick shake of the head.

"Edward, my dearest. You are no longer my servant and I no longer your master. And if what I have heard is true, you are as much my equal as I yours," he told me gently, and I almost melted at the sound of his voice once more. Oh Heaven blessed me with such a voice!

"I hold no grudge upon you for your deceit. It is long passed," I replied stiltedly, as Edward took my hands in his, holding them to his heart.

"Then what is it, my elf?" he asked, and I shivered in the cold wind.

"Edward, I must tell you something, but I know not how," I started. He just watched me seriously in the moonlight. "You recall the night I left you? The night we-"

I trailed off, waving my hand in explanation. A sad expression washed over my master's face before he strode to my side, taking me in his arms again.

"Cruel deserter. I more than recall that night we made love to one another. Indeed it has tormented me these past months, as nothing else has. To hold you in my arms again is more pleasure than I ever expected to experience," he murmured, and I shivered at his tone of voice, as it deepened into a husky purr. He leant in to kiss me, but I stopped him desperately. I had to get my secret out to he who it concerned most.

"No Edward, do not caress me now," I breathed. Instead he cupped my face, searching my eyes intently.

"Jane, what is it? Why do you tremble?" he asked concernedly, and I loved him all the more for it. But how would he feel in a few moments'?

"Edward that night…it left me with more than memories to torment me in our separation," I began, and maybe he unconsciously realised what I was to say, for he tensed. "You left me with a son."

"What?" he breathed quietly, and his grasp on my waist slackened so I could break free. Taking a deep breath, I looked into his as a tear escaped my own eyes.

"I bore your child, Edward. I gave birth to your son,"

Silence reigned in the clearing, as not even the wind dared intrude. Maybe Nature would not intrude upon such a tense moment, full of flickering lightening and dark portents.

But none of that compared to the mingled fury, joy and disbelief in my beloved master's eyes.

He held out his hand to me commandingly. "Show me. Take me to him."

Inhaling deeply, I took it and led him through the forest to my little house by the school building.

* * *

**More soon! Please R&R!**


	3. A Proposal Accepted

On A Winter's Night

* * *

My master's hand was tightly tucked into my own as I led him through the woods to my little cottage. We walked in silence, the air between us too full of dark, flickering portents like tiny lightning bolts, to be broken.

In my heart, I felt overwhelming fear. What if he should reject his son? Loathe him for being a bastard, a mere blot on my master's already tarnished honour? Worse, what if he should try to take him from me, in retaliation against my own sin.

No! I banished silly fears, I would not entertain them a moment longer. Such fears might be relevant if the man were any other than my dear master, my Edward.

He had said his wife, oh that poor lunatic captive, was dead. Even as I offered a silent prayer to heaven, that she might find peace, a strangled hope bloomed in my soul. This was too much, as if a dream world, with my Edward once more near me, and our son awaiting us at home.

Then I glimpsed my master's set, cold face in the flash of a lightning strike in the clouds above, as snow rained down upon us, and that hope died.

Only to be reborn anew, with sickening agony within, when I slipped on a wet, loose pebble on the path, and the strength of Mr Rochester's arms impinged upon my senses where he caught me and steadied me.

For one precious moment, I allowed myself to lean into his strength, as a budding wood vine would wind around a sturdy oak, since its strength offered so safe a prop.

His arms tightened around me, and I could scarcely pant, as my head dropped back to rest against his shoulder. For one moment, I fancied I could feel his warm breath on the exposed flesh of my neck, but when he put me from him, his face a blank mask, I told myself it was fancy only.

Finally the schoolhouse came into sight through the trees, a light on in the window, and I knew I would need to make some excuse for Mr Rochester, or hide him until I could send the young girl I had paid to keep an eye on Matthew away.

It would have to the other, since the former would raise too much gossip. I would have to be quick, since the snow was setting in, and I would not want young Mary's health on my conscience, strong moor girl though she might be.

As we approached, I turned to Mr Rochester, and pushed him into the shadows thronging the outside of the doorframe. "Wait here," I said, not waiting to gauge his expression before I opened my front door.

"Mary?" I called, and she appeared from my bedchamber, where I had left Matthew, asleep. "How is he?"

"Well, enough, Miss Eyre," she curtsied. I gave her a crown from my pocket, and she hurried off as soon as she was cloaked and bonneted, and I watched her walk quickly into the woods. She lived just beyond the wood, so she would soon be home, and she was long used to such weather.

I turned to the shadows, and beckoned Mr Rochester inside, closing the door quickly behind him.

The little cottage I had occupied during my tenure as schoolmistress of Morton was a rudimentary thing, just two rooms attached to the main school room. I took off my bonnet and cloak, noting that the fire under the stove was long since gone out, and could only hope that the fireplace in my bedchamber still blazed.

I turned to see Mr Rochester, take off his own hat, cloak and gloves, before pinning me with a piercing look. "Where is he?" he asked, lowly, dark as thunder. I shivered.

"In here," I murmured, leading the way. Inside my bedchamber, a small, low-slung room with whitewashed walls, knotted wooden flooring and simple but clean furniture, stood Matthew's cradle, a gift from one of the father's of my students. There came a low cry from it, and I rushed forward, scooping up the tiny bundle inside in my arms, supporting my son's tiny head as he kicked and screamed raucously. "This is Matthew."

I looked up then, at my Edward, as he stared at the tiny being in my arms, and tried to read his face. There was no…rejection there, as I had feared, no repulsion.

But fear.

And was that awe?

"Give him to me!" he suddenly demanded, holding out his hands, simultaneously looking terrified and longing at once. Pushing my irrational fears away, raised from their graves by his slightly wild look, I handed the child to him, helping him cradle Matthew's head just so. "My son…"

At that whispered last, I looked away, unable to watch. It was too private a moment, and it pierced my heart. At his father's touch, Matthew instantly stopped, eying Mr Rochester almost appraisingly. Seemingly, he must have liked what he saw, for he instantly giggled and waved his tiny fist at Mr Rochester's face.

* * *

There could be no doubt of Matthew's paternity, even if he did suspect me of such promiscuity. He already possessed tufts of hair the exact shade of Edward's own, his eyes the same jetty black as his father's.

* * *

When Edward raised his eyes to mine, I no longer saw anger there, as he cradled his firstborn son. "Jane, tell me everything that has happened since you left me," he asked, and I nodded, sitting down on my bed since it was the only seat in the room. The kitchen was far too cold now the fire had burnt out, and it was only likely to get worse with the cold.

I told him everything. I did not linger long on the details of my three days of homeless wandering, nor did I say much about St John's disapproval, only his charity and the kindness of Diana and Mary. I explained about the discovery of cousinship, and my uncle's fortune, until I had finished my tale.

"You have not told me all, Janet," he murmured, and I looked to him frowningly. "I can read your eyes, witch, and I see your trials were more than you have said."

I looked down, cursing my expressive eyes. "My sufferings, such as they were, were short enough, and any disapproval given after the discovery of my pregnancy deserved. I had a child out of wedlock, and although I would never regret our son or the manner of his conception, I broke rules and behaved like a common whore," I replied.

"No," he retorted. "You are not a whore. Never, and I will personally bludgeon any who have uttered those words against you, even if it is the whole village."

"The villagers do not know Matthew is my son," I explained. "When the pregnancy was discovered, I was secreted away and St John told the villagers that I had been called to a cousin's sickbed in another county."

"And when Matthew was born, you passed him off as your 'cousin's' child?" he asked, and I nodded. He shook his head, and I took Matthew back, as he began to cry, a cry I knew well.

"I must feed him," I murmured. I turned my back to him, and sat on the bed once more, unbuttoning the neck of my dress just enough so Matthew could reach my breast. I could feel Mr Rochester's eyes on me, on my back, as Matthew finished, and I gently patted his back before I wiped his lips and returned him to his bed, tucking him in tenderly. Looking down on my son, I couldn't help but smile, before I leaned in and kissed his forehead.

* * *

Children were a Gift from God, and I could never regret him. Never.

* * *

I felt Edward walk up close behind me, and I prayed for the strength to withstand whatever fury he might throw my way.

"Why did you not write to me? Tell me of Matthew's birth? I would have-" he began, in a low, furious voice I remembered well from our encounter just after the failed wedding.

"You would have taken us away, and I would have been nothing more than your mistress. I did not know Bertha had died, so I would not risk it," I replied in a hushed whisper, no less furious for its lack of volume. "I have all I need here, Matthew would have been well-cared for. It is not like we are living in utter squalor and poverty, especially not now!"

"You would have kept my son from me?" he growled, as I turned to face him, forgetting that I had not refastened my dress.

"No, never. I had already decided that I would tell him of you freely, once he was older. I would not have kept him from you, if he wished to find you," I breathed. "If you had known, what would you have done, Edward? Forced me to be your mistress?"

"No, not that," he replied.

"I am sorry for the pain I have caused you, but I am not sorry for the reasons behind why I have acted so. I will be no man's slave." I continued passionately, but quietly, wary of waking Matthew.

"No, how could you be? My fire spirit, untameable, indomitable," he breathed, "But you forget an important factor."

"What is that?" I asked, braver than I felt. His gaze, dark, heavy, was making my very bones feel like cloth, and my spine was melting.

"To God and Nature, you are already mine. My wife," he growled, striding forward and taking me in his arms. Any retort, any attempt at fighting was quickly smothered by his kiss, his strong touch on my body.

* * *

His lips were like poison, spreading through my body, weakening my resolve. I forced myself away before I gave in to him, but he caught me, pinning my body back against his, holding me tightly around my waist. I shivered, feeling his hardening body against my back, through the layers of my skirts, petticoats and chemise. His hand slid into my hair, sliding out hairpins, and combing out the long strands, before I finally felt his lips on my neck. A quiet moan escaped my lips, as the hand which had undone my hair slid into the gaping front of my bodice, caressing and claiming all that was rightfully his.

I was lost, my mind undone, incoherent at the pleasure he gave me, one hand reclaiming his due, the other tilting my head back so he had more access to my neck, now he was certain I would not pull away.

I could not, even if my life had depended upon it. I supposed we had been heading for this, the moment I had collided with him on that forest path, and my body rejoiced in its sin.

"But w-what about Matthew?" I gasped.

"We will have to be quiet, my fairy," he growled in my ear, before he sought my lips and I sank against him. Our lips melded as effortlessly Nature intended, as I tremblingly pushed his coat from his shoulders. His hands fell to my hips, pulling me against him tighter, and rocking into me as I gasped, the sound smothered by his kiss. I was barely aware of the soft bed until he pushed me back, following me down and reclaiming my lips.

I was thankful for the dim light the fire gave, as well as the warmth, as he unclothed me, gazing at me possessively. I shrugged all concerns aside, and allowed my hands to wander across his back and strong shoulders appreciatively, soaking in the desire he patently felt for me.

It felt right, it was right despite any and all social precepts which said this was scandalous, sinful, wanton behaviour.

But we loved one another, and I had borne Edward's child. Social precepts held no place here anymore.

* * *

Later, I stirred as Edward left my bed, clad only in his shirt and breeches, the air cold. He returned with our son, bundled still in his blankets, and Edward placed him between us, shrouded against the cold by our bodies and the covers of the bed. I stroked my sleeping son's head, before nestling closer, being careful not to crush him.

"Jane?" Edward's husky whisper made me look up, as his hand caressed my cheek. "Marry me?"

Social precepts would dictate that I had little choice in the matter, and in truth it was a realisation of my most cherished hopes and dreams.

But could I trust him? He had, after all, lied to me about Bertha.

"Can I trust you?" I whispered, as his large thumb drifted over my cheekbone. His eyes filled with pain, and remorse, making me shift uncomfortably in the bed.

"I will do anything to prove myself to you," he murmured, forcing me to look at him once more. "Marry me, and allow me to make amends for all I have done."

I looked down at our son, sleeping between us, and shivered. I owed it to Matthew, to Edward, to give him the chance. I desired it with all my soul.

"Yes," I whispered, as such an expression of joy passed over his beloved face that I couldn't help but feel tears spring to my eyes, as I smiled.


End file.
